"Hiruzen-sensei, the strength of a ninjutsu lies in its user," Orochimaru said quietly.
"The user's skill sets both the upper and lower limits of the technique."
Hiruzen Sarutobi regarded his young student with a faint smile, but Orochimaru's golden eyes narrowed in dissatisfaction. He turned his head toward the whirling air of his latest attempt at Wind Release: Night Wind.
For a moment the faint breeze he'd produced scattered leaves across the training field, but his expression remained cold.
He shook his head. "A jutsu that requires no hand seals… and yet one is expected to shout its name?"
The boy's voice held open scorn. "It's ridiculous—like warning the enemy: I'm about to attack; get ready to counter."
Orochimaru's distaste deepened. To him, loudly announcing a technique was the height of foolishness. "Any shinobi, regardless of morality or rank, insists on shouting the name of the ninjutsu as though afraid the opponent won't recognize it. Absurd."
Hiruzen chuckled softly. "At your age, no one in Konoha has achieved what you have. There's no need to rush. Settle down, grow naturally, and your power will mature on its own."
But the boy's eyes darkened. "Peace will not last forever, Sensei. If I don't become stronger, someday…" He lowered his gaze, voice thinning to a whisper. "…I might end up like my mother and father."
The words hung heavy in the morning air. Hiruzen's smile faded as he studied the child before him. At such a young age, to think so far ahead… He understood, finally, the relentless drive behind Orochimaru's training.
"I will continue," Orochimaru said simply.
Before Hiruzen could reply, the boy's hands blurred into seals. Four identical Shadow Clones popped into existence around him. Sweat dampened his hair as his breathing quickened.
"Orochimaru, don't push yourself too hard," Hiruzen warned, a crease of concern on his brow.
"I'm fine." Orochimaru's voice trembled only slightly as he reached for a scroll a nearby kunoichi assistant handed him. His fingers shook and the scroll slipped open across the grass.
Hiruzen's eyes sharpened. The first characters revealed intricate notes on Wind Release techniques—detailed insights into Vacuum Sphere.
"This…" Hiruzen murmured.
Orochimaru quickly gathered the scroll, wrapping it with unusual care.
"Where did you get that?" Hiruzen asked at last, unable to contain his curiosity.
"From Assistant Hokage Danzo-sama," Orochimaru answered without hesitation. "He said I possess exceptional talent in Wind Release."
Hiruzen's heart sank. Danzo. The name sparked both admiration and unease. Danzo Shimura was his long-time comrade, the man he had allowed to create Root under the ANBU's umbrella. But giving a rare Wind Release scroll directly to his student—without even mentioning it—was… troubling.
Danzo is reaching for him, Hiruzen realized, a spark of anger flaring. Does he mean to draw Orochimaru into Root?
No. Absolutely not.
Outwardly he forced a mild smile. "So, Danzo… It seems even he recognizes your limitless potential."
He rested a gentle hand on Orochimaru's head. "How did you meet him?"
The boy glanced upward with a faint pout. "Sensei, if I don't grow taller, I'll hold you responsible."
Hiruzen laughed, a deep, genuine sound that eased the tension for a moment. "I'll accept that risk."
"Danzo-sama approached me last night," Orochimaru continued. "I was testing Night Wind by the lake. He was already there. He said my parents were heroes—and that I might one day become one too."
So that's his angle, Hiruzen thought grimly. Playing on a child's longing.
He decided not to press further and instead produced four heavy scrolls of his own, each marked with a different element: Fire, Water, Earth, and Lightning. "These are my personal notes on elemental ninjutsu. Normally I would wait until you were older, but you're ready. Study them, and deepen what you already know instead of chasing too many new techniques."
Orochimaru accepted them as though they were priceless gems. "Thank you, Hiruzen-sensei."
Hiruzen ruffled the boy's dark hair and smiled. "Continue your training. I have matters to attend to."
With a flicker of chakra, the Hokage vanished.
---
Beneath the Training Ground
Far below Konoha, deep within the warren of Root's underground training hall, young recruits fought until their fists bled. Danzo Shimura stood with arms folded, his cold eyes surveying the brutal sparring.
"Abandon useless emotions," he barked. "Kill the weakness in your hearts. From this day forward, you are tools of Root. Tools do not need feelings."
A masked operative approached and whispered something urgently into his ear.
"What?" Danzo's single visible eye sharpened.
"Danzo, is this how you train Anbu?"
The commanding voice came from the shadows. Hiruzen stepped forward, the air around him suddenly heavy with killing intent.
Root operatives instinctively moved to block him but froze under the Third Hokage's glare.
Danzo did not flinch. "Hiruzen. Did you come only to lecture me?"
"I came to see how you treat children of the village," Hiruzen said evenly.
"ANBU are not ordinary shinobi," Danzo replied, his tone clipped. "They are the unseen hand of Konoha—assassins who eliminate threats in darkness. They must be free of hesitation and sentiment. If that offends you, perhaps you have forgotten what peace requires."
"You've crossed the line!" Hiruzen's voice cracked like a whip. He looked at the bruised, bloodied children and felt fury burn in his chest. "Are you training protectors of Konoha—or slaves who obey only you?"
Danzo's gaze hardened. "Strong emotion breeds hatred. Hatred leads to war. I forge tools to protect the village, nothing more."
"Rubbish!" Hiruzen shot back. "If you truly cared for Konoha, you would allow it to rest and gather strength. Instead, you drive these children to kill their hearts. Danzo, don't test my patience."
The two old comrades stood locked in a silence thick with years of shared battles and diverging ideals.
At length Hiruzen exhaled, tamping down his anger. "Change your methods. I'll be watching."
He turned on his heel and disappeared into the shadows.
Danzo's face remained unreadable, but his mind churned. So the Hokage himself comes to scold me. Because of that boy, Orochimaru…
A thin, cold smile curved his lips. If Hiruzen values him so highly, perhaps Root needs him even more.
---
The Budding Serpent
Meanwhile, on a quiet training field above, Orochimaru sat cross-legged atop a tree branch, gathering chakra until it hummed through his veins. He wondered idly what was happening beneath the village.
Is Hiruzen-sensei confronting Danzo right now? They're both in their prime—maybe they'll even fight.
The thought sent a guilty thrill through him, and he imagined a tiny version of himself waving flags and shouting, Fight! Fight!
A sudden rush of wind announced the arrival of his returning Shadow Clones. Four scrolls dropped neatly into his hands—Fire, Water, Earth, Lightning—each filled with his master's painstaking notes. As the clones dispersed, their memories flowed into him like a second heartbeat. There was no sense of force, only perfect understanding.
So this is the value of a great teacher, he thought, descending the trunk feet-first. No wonder so many shinobi stagnate; most never have instruction of this level.
He paused, wove hand signs, and inhaled deeply.
"Wind Release: Vacuum Sphere!"
A compressed bullet of air shot from his mouth, smashing through a tree with a rapid series of pats and splintering wood until a ragged hole bored straight through the trunk.
Feels like spitting bullets, he mused, recalling tales of Danzo's own technique and even the Hidden Stone's Rock Bullet jutsu.
"Impressive."
The quiet voice made him whirl, kunai in hand.
Danzo Shimura stepped from the shadows, his single eye lingering on the shattered tree. "You mastered Vacuum Sphere overnight. Remarkable. Truly beyond mere genius."
"Danzo-sama," Orochimaru said, surprised, dropping lightly from the branch. "But… Hiruzen-sensei just visited you. Did he leave so soon?"
Danzo's thin smile never reached his eye.
---